


First Kiss

by anemptymargin



Category: Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Older Characters, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:09:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemptymargin/pseuds/anemptymargin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their real first kiss wasn’t in front of the cameras or a live studio audience, not when it really mattered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [anemptymargin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemptymargin/pseuds/anemptymargin) in the [RoundOne](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/RoundOne) collection. 



> Cripes I haven’t written this fandom in ages, but I love them so very much.
> 
> **Prompt:** first kiss

We’d kissed at least a dozen times over the years, always for the camera – always for a laugh, and it was easy. Anything for a laugh, right? That’s comedy, putting yourself out there and being willing to make an ass out of yourself – in the case of improv it’s pretty much a given you’re going to end up kissing and groping at least half the cast before the night is over. With Ryan, it’s never been the kisses that mattered – it was the closeness, being able to read him like book and feed right into his routine.

It was about being closer than I think I’ve ever been with another human being, two parts of one whole. It was about smiling back when he smiles at me and the audience is going wild.

No, it didn’t actually matter until years after that when there were no cameras and no live studio audience. It was only us and park bench in Seattle like any other pair of old men out on a walk. There was a light breeze giving the overcast Sunday its cliché Pacific Northwest chill.

“So, how’re things?” I found myself asking, as if I even had to. The deep lines written in the corners of his eyes and the way his smile seemed dim told me everything I needed to know. Not great, maybe not even good – but he was too damn proud to admit it.

“You know how it goes,” he shrugged, orange plaid stretching across his shoulders. He stretched his legs out in front of him, no passersby to trip, and added; “Fine.” His smile flashed, and then faded.

“That bad, huh?” I chuckled, closing the short distance between us to let my hand rest comfortably on his thigh.

“Not bad,” he shook his head; “just… is what it is. I missed you.”

“That’s why I’m here,” I couldn’t help but smile, looking up at his profile against the gray sky.

When he looked back down at me, his smile was warm and genuine – the Ryan I haven’t seen in years. Working, I told myself every time, we’ve been busy. Never ‘it got weird’ or ‘it’s getting too hard to let go’. Things were what they were. He answered; “You’re here because I called you last night and asked if you’d come.”

I shrugged, looking back down at my hands, closing them experimentally into loose fists as I searched for the right words that only came out as a nod.

After a long, comfortable pause, he rested his arm around my shoulder and it was all too easy to lean against him, burying my forehead in his shoulder. “Things aren’t great,” he said, his fingertips brushing against my ear.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” His hand dropped down to gently grip my shoulder, no words needed to clarify. We were solid, always have been and as far as either of us cared, always would be.

Nodding against his shoulder, I simply let the quiet moment pass before straightening up to look him in the face again. He looked pensive, lost in his own thoughts. “It’s gonna be fine, you know that right? You always work it out.”

There was no warning, no smile telling me he was about to do something that would get a laugh, he just leaned in and like it was the most natural thing in the world he kissed me. I could have stopped, I could have been shocked or upset, but I guess it had been a while coming and when he broke away he rested his head against mine all I really felt was a strange sense that I’d been waiting a long time for it to happen. Maybe I had been waiting; it wasn’t like I really thought about it much until he was kissing me again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, breaking away with a sheepish grin and a blush under his collar. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

It was easy to lean against him and once more shake my head on his shoulder. “It was fine…” I added quickly; “It was nice.”

“Nice.” He echoed with a soft laugh. “Sure.”

“I mean it. It wasn’t bad.”

Another quiet moment passed, but I couldn’t help but feel like I should be doing something. Tentative, I patted his leg. “We could do that again, if you want to.”

“Do you want to?”

I shrugged only to have his strong arm draw me in close enough to almost sit in his lap. “I guess I do.”

It was something, all right – not really the start or even something big; but it was our thing. And for what it’s worth, it’s easier to be together apart than I can ever imagine it being apart together.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.


End file.
